


The Wincott Conspiracy

by pyrrhic_victoly



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Bad Puns, Crack Crossover, Crack Treated Seriously, Dimension Travel, F/F, F/M, Genderqueer Character, Homophobic Language, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Zombies, bear-bees, nogisu, wincott poison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 10:28:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1854727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyrrhic_victoly/pseuds/pyrrhic_victoly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Agent Kennedy is sent to investigate rumors of a possible outbreak of zombies.  Ah, zom-bees.  Wait, no.  Zom-bear-bees.  All signs point to Dr. Jose Rodriguez, cousin to the deceased Luis Sera.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. IN THE LURCH

**Author's Note:**

> Found this tucked away in a dusty corner. Thought I'd polish it up and post. >:]

He’d sent his condolences to the families of the police casualties, and was there when they packed Mike’s remains in a casket to be sent back to the States. 

All it took was one single asshole with delusions of world domination via zombie apocalypse to fuck things up for everyone else. An entire town had been all but wiped out. There wasn’t anything he could do or say to make that better. 

Seeing the suffering of innocents never got easier no matter how long he’d been in this line of work. Whether it was out in the boondocks of a foreign country or back in his ravaged hometown, Raccoon City, their grief was the same, and it was all Leon could do not to give in to his instincts to help every single one of them. 

They found Luis’ body. The cleanup crew brought it out during their sweep and disinfect mission; they carted out all of his files, too. As far as Leon knew, all the research data of the late Dr. Sera was currently on a secret service flight to the US along with Ashley Graham. As a field agent, that wasn’t Leon’s concern. He doubted he would understand even half of what was in those files, anyway.

The files on the plane didn’t matter to him; Ashley mattered. Dr. Sera’s work didn’t matter; Luis mattered. Or he _had_ mattered. The President’s daughter was safe and sound, if a little shaken from her adventure in hell, but Luis Sera was gone. Today was his funeral.

Part of Leon would have liked to be on that plane with Ashley right now, getting away from this hellhole. Yeah, sure, Spain was beautiful this time of year. It was one more beautiful place that he would never be able to vacation in without having nightmares. Every time he thought of Spain, Leon was sure he would think of Luis’ face as he was gutted by that disgusting monster. Slime and blood and maniacal laughter echoing off the old church walls.

Well, whatever. This was for Luis. As the last person who’d seen him alive, he owed the man at least that much.

Funeral, though? The church was beautiful, but it wasn’t fair to call this a funeral when there were nearly no attendees. That was understandable since most of Luis’ acquaintances had presumably gone down the same path of madness - literally, with a parasite eating their brains inside out. A couple background checks and more than a few hushed deals here and there had turned up a matching Sera family in Madrid, so here she was, dear old grandma Bienvenida, the only relative to show up to an event of her own planning.

To put it nicely, Señora Bienvenida did not live up to the meaning of her name.

“Who th’hell are you?” she rasped, voice roughened by countless years of tobacco smoke. “Luis’ American boyfriend, ah? Ah, great. My godforsaken ex-husband knocks me up four times - four times I have to push a watermelon through my vagina! You think after four kids I’d get some decent grandchildren out of this, but no. I get two, and one is dead. My only daughter runs off to research god knows what, disappears into the Amazon for half a decade, and I only hear from her when she tells me, ‘Hey Ma, I got married while starving in the rainforest and now we live in New Mexico and oh, by the way, here’s your grandson who speaks Spanish like an alpaca raised on Hollywood movies!’ My son gives me Luis - the dead faggot.”

To put it honestly, she was one helluva mean old whip. One glance at her hardened eyes, sharp and cynical, and the unimpressed set of her lips, puckered from all the cigarettes, was enough to dash any thoughts of Bienvenida as anyone’s kindly cookie-baking grandmother. She probably made babies cry just by looking at them.

Leon smirked. “The Luis I knew was a skirt-chaser.”

“It’s called overcompensation,” she snapped back.

And what could he say to that? He shrugged and let Bienvenida have her way. If she wanted to think Luis batted for the other team, all the more power to her.

It was as Leon was about to ask after the cousin she’d briefly mentioned that the dark-skinned man burst in through the church doors, shouting for Luis with the remnants of tears at the corners of his eyes.

Bienvenida growled out something in Spanish as the man approached. She spoke too quickly for Leon’s limited comprehension, but he guessed she was cussing the other guy out. At the sight of the man’s frantic, grief-stricken face, she whapped him over the head and cussed again.

“Whoa there. Settle down, Mrs. Sera.”

“What? Can’t a woman smack some sense into her only living idiot grandson without you government thugs getting involved? Feh!” The old woman stomped off to the side and sat down on one of the pews. Her hands shook as she pulled out her smokes and lit up. An awkward silence ensued.

“...So. Luis’ cousin?”

“Oh, excuse me,” the man said. His dreads bounced as his head suddenly snapped Leon’s way. “Yes, I’m his cousin, Jose Rodriguez. And you are?”

“Leon Kennedy. I was... a friend.”

Jose cleared his throat, obviously sensing that Leon couldn’t or wouldn’t speak of the details. He was intelligent and quick to pick up the nuances, shifting the conversation to other things. “Ah, I’m sorry for my grandmother’s behavior. She’s mourning in her own way.”

“By using you as a punching bag?”

Jose shrugged. “She’s emotionally stunted. I haven’t seen her this bad in years. She really loved Luis, you know.”

“Huh.”

“In her own way.”

Leon coughed into his hand to cover up a laugh. “Right. Emotionally stunted?”

“Exactly!”

The awkwardness had somewhat abated. Bienvenida kept to herself, channeling all her grief into feigned anger, which Leon could see now that Jose had pointed it out. If she had been anyone else, Leon would have gone to comfort her. But she was Bienvenida Sera, and she’d rip him a new one if he tried. 

Jose, on the other hand, seemed like a nice guy. They stood together companionably, and although Luis’ cousin didn’t look like him at all, there was a lightheartedness and irreverent air about him that was so painfully familiar. Leon had no doubts that, should this man ever be surrounded by zombies, Jose would be cracking shitty jokes just like Luis.

He hoped it would never come to that. It stung to think that, had Luis not pursued such a dangerous line of research, he could have been like his cousin Jose. A fun guy. A _normal_ guy. Someone’s drinking buddy living a quiet life in a small town in Spain or New Mexico or just _somewhere_ without fucking zombies coming in to crash the party.

And it also stung to think that Luis had done all those things while he still had family who loved him, and who were now mourning him.

“Do you...” Jose started to speak in a quiet voice. “Do you know what-- No, that’s stupid, of course you know... Can you tell me anything about what Luis was doing?”

Leon’s throat was dry and he had to swallow a few times before he could respond. “What do you know?”

“Nothing. I just got the call and they said he was dead.” Jose shook his head. “I pieced some of it together from the news, but it’s not much at all. He was working with a group, doing illegal human experimentation, and... and they had him killed.”

“Yeah. That’s the gist of it.”

“You can’t tell me anything else?”

“Classified.”

Jose’s face fell at the terse response, and Leon grimaced. He scrunched up his brows as he tried to think of a way to put it.

“Look. I can’t tell you about the research, but I’ll tell you this: Luis was a good guy, in the end. I guess you could say he made some mistakes and fell in with the wrong crowd.”

“What is this, a high school drama?”

Leon turned to face the window so Jose couldn’t see him smile at that. “They killed him because he turned on them; because he came to his senses and wanted to set things right. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for him.”

Jose shifted and nervously scratched the back of his head. Bienvenida, still in her corner, had stiffened, cigarette hanging slack from her lips. Leon knew that she had heard, too.

Finally, Jose, unable to go without breaking up the tension, spoke with a wavering smile. “It’s a shame he’s not here to whine about the beautiful church funeral grandma planned for him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because he was an atheist, and this would have annoyed him.”

Leon narrowed his eyes at Jose’s insanity. “He was part of a religious cult.”

“Ah, you see! Bad things happen when atheists turn to religion! Or, you know, when scientists become crazed cultists.” Jose paused. “Hmm. That’s probably why he didn’t want to attend Blasphemy Day celebrations with me for the past few years.”

Bienvenida came back over, stubbed out her cigarette, and promptly whacked Jose once more for disrespecting the church.

It was an interesting funeral. And, in a way, it was the perfect send-off for someone like Luis.


	2. ZOMBIES DON'T LIKE FAST FOOD

“Hunnigan, what’s going on? Or did you just want to chat?” Leon adjusted his earpiece as he stepped outside Logan Airport in Boston.

“Ha ha. Very funny. Unlike _someone_ , I’m not here to flirt with my colleagues.”

“Sure. You busy next Saturday?” He could practically hear her rolling her eyes at him. Hunnigan was always fun to tease. Not to mention she was also gorgeous, and he wouldn’t have minded if she took him up on the offer for real.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got a lead for you on the Wincott Financials case.”

“Got any actual dirt on this Bob guy? Besides funding physicians’ conferences. Everything you’ve dug up so far hasn’t panned out. I feel like I’m on a wild goose chase.” Leon glanced down at his watch and continued down the street to his hotel.

“This lead is bigger than the previous ones. There’s definitely something going on at that conference, and we’ve narrowed down the suspects from among the attendees. One of the doctors has turned out to have a connection to the original Las Plagas researchers. His alibi is weak. He goes missing for extended periods of time on regular international trips. Hong Kong, Switzerland, Japan... And Spain, of course.”

“Uh huh. So he’s a globetrotter. How’s that different from any other rich doctor?”

“That’s the thing, though. He’s not rich, at least not according to his cover story, and his work with Doctors Without Borders ended years ago.”

“Hold on a sec. I’m checking into the hotel.”

“All right. I’m sending the files to your computer.”

One quick exchange later, Leon frowned as he pushed open the door to his hotel room and set down his bags, pausing only to grab his laptop. He shrugged off his jacket and waited for the computer to boot.

“Did you get the files, Leon?”

“Yeah. Got anything else to add before I look through them?”

“I’ll just brief you on the main points. The suspect’s name is Dr. Jose Rodriguez.”

“Sh--!” He bit off the curse.

“...Leon?”

“Nothing. Keep going.”

“Dr. Rodriguez is a pediatrician--”

“The US government is having me tail a _pediatrician_? What is this world coming to?”

“It’s been headed toward the zombie apocalypse since 1998, or haven’t you noticed?” Hunnigan said dryly.

“Touché.”

“Look, Leon, I know Dr. Rodriguez might be something of a friend for you, and this lead might still turn out to be nothing but a dead end, but it’s all we have now.”

“Who said he was my friend? What makes you think I even know this guy?”

Again, he could sense Hunnigan rolling her eyes at him from hundreds of miles away. If there was one thing the US government was, it was paranoid. And that meant it just _loved_ spying on its own agents. Hands down, favorite pastime.

“I’ll continue to investigate the other conference attendees,” Hunnigan said, “but... Check the files. Dr. Rodriguez’s story doesn’t add up, he has family connections to Dr. Sera, and we have reason to believe he has other friends in high places. Namely, Robert Wincott of Wincott Financials.”

“Think it has something to do with Umbrella?”

“Possibly. As you know, with Umbrella’s fall, many of its smaller partner and rival companies have been clamoring to take its place. You’d think a Swiss-based financial group would be low on the list of suspected heirs to Umbrella, but why would a financial group invest so much into biotech research? Robert Wincott could have a direct link to bioweapons contracting via Dr. Rodriguez, and that isn’t something we can rule out so easily.”

“Yeah. I’ll keep an eye on him. Thanks.”

“Stay safe. Hunnigan out.”

[¬°-°]¬

Even with the conference badge around his neck, Leon looked decidedly out of place. It wasn’t just his build, though he was noticeably more athletic in appearance than most of the attendees, but actually, it was more that he obviously didn’t carry himself like a doctor. The people around him, the majority of them dressed in business casual, practically exuded intellectualism. On their own, each one was just a doctor. Now, together, it was like some mechanism had been triggered by the mass congregation of doctors, and this made medical knowledge waft out of their pores.

It was unsettling for Leon, whose medical knowledge was limited to how to crush up certain painkilling herbs and slap them onto bloody wounds, or, in more dire situations, setting up a splint or tourniquet in a hurry. He kept himself to the edge of the group, trying to find a place with a good vantage over the crowd while avoiding direct eye contact with any individuals likely to chat.

There had been sightings in the Boston area of a creature said to resemble the abominations that roamed the streets during the Raccoon City outbreak. No one had been infected or had close contact with the creature. Leon was holding out hope for it being a "chupacabra", basically any one of a variety of mammals that had contracted severe mange. Other such sightings had been reported throughout the years, but almost all had been the result of internet conspiracy theorists with too much time on their hands and not enough brains to make it worth a zombie's attention. (Most had also been "maybe a chupacabra".) This one, however, was of interest to the government because it coincided with Robert Wincott's arrival.

Leon continued keeping to the sidelines as the herd of doctors entered the theatre where the presentations were to be held. He watched as they filed in and took their seats, and there, far to the left, he spotted the distinctive dreads of Dr. Rodriguez. Jose was chatting animatedly with a younger woman, nodding and making wide gestures with his arms. It was hard to imagine someone like that might be involved in perpetuating biological warfare. He seemed so earnest. 

The woman seemed earnest as well, but there was something off about her. She was quite petite and had long dark hair tied back in a thick braid. Leon couldn't see her as clearly as he would've liked, but from this distance he thought her facial features appeared too doll-like. Perhaps it was a makeup trick. Either way, the smoothness of her features had her situated in Uncanny Valley.

The two shuffled along with the crowd until the woman pointed to a pair of seats near the front. Leon followed them and took a seat two rows back. Then the lights dimmed over the audience and the keynote speaker entered the stage to a round of polite applause. 

Dr. Rodriguez looked to be paying rapt attention, as was his lady friend. Nothing seemed out of place in the slightest. Leon resigned himself to hours of boredom.

The keynote address and first presentation took up a little more than half an hour. During the lull in conversation, Leon heard something strange. There was a susurrus coming from somewhere toward the back of the platform near the curtains, perhaps by the potted fern.

“...su...su...su...”

A few others in the front rows had taken notice and were beginning to swivel their heads back and forth in an attempt to pinpoint the disturbance.

"...su...su...su…"

Leon carefully made his way through the seated crowd to the front row. With his head bowed so as not to attract too much attention, he squeezed between the stage and the first row of the audience until he came to the darkened corner closest to the sound.

“No...gi...”

“...sssu...no...gisssuuu...”

“Nogisu!”

All he saw was claws and teeth launching up out of the ornamental ficus, neighbor to the fern. Reacting on instinct, Leon knifed the bugger right between the eyes. It fell back into the leaves with a squelch. Leon took a good look at it then, and it was, near as he could tell, a teddy bear in a bee costume with parts rotted off.

"Sir, what are you doing? You can't be up here."

Shit. He'd been caught by one of the event coordinators. Leon opened his mouth to spout off something about being with security, but he got no further than "I'm with--" before he was interrupted.

"He's with me!" It was Rodriguez; the woman from before was not with him. Leon cast a glance to where the doctor had been seated, but she was not there either.

"Er, you're Dr. Rodriguez, yes?"

"Yes! Please excuse my friend. Mr. Wincott's, ah, niece, left her teddy bear in here while she was playing and we were told to look for it. Now it's all tangled up in this ficus here so we'll, um, just be taking that."

The coordinator shot him a disbelieving look. Many members of the audience were also looking their way in various states of confusion and curiosity. Rodriguez was beginning to sweat, and Leon was sad to say that he couldn't come up with a better cover story either. His last resort was to admit to government work and maybe cause a small scale panic.

"Haha… Rich executives, you know?"

"Uh _huh_."

Leon grabbed the plant and ran.

[¬°-°]¬

"Explain," Leon commanded of Dr. Rodriguez in the most no-nonsense voice he could muster.

They'd dragged a blood-splattered ficus all the way to Leon's hotel room. All the while, Rodriguez muttered assurances that the disease was not contagious at this stage and could they please block the view of the poor mutilated bear-bee from any passers by. Leon was not in a mood for idle chit-chat.

"It's complicated," Rodriguez said. "We should really go out for drinks for this."

Leon frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"Okay, okay!" Rodriguez put up his hands in a placating manner. "I'll explain everything! You know, because I think of you as a friend and I trust you are a good person."

"Nice try with the guilt trip; not gonna work."

Rodriguez sighed dramatically. "You know, you remind me a lot - and I mean _a lot_ \- of another one of my friends. He used to be gruff like that, too. He's better now, though, so maybe I should introduce you two and have him give you some tips on loosening up."

"Nice try with the deflection; not gonna work."

Rodriguez sobered up then, and he said in all earnestness, "What I'm about to tell you is for you, not the government. I want your word that all recording devices are off or I'll take this secret to the grave."

"Then we'd hunt down your lady friend and get the answers out of her."

"She's not here anymore."

"We'll track her down."

"She's _not here_ anymore. She never was. You can't track down someone who doesn't exist on any database in this world. No written records at all. Plus, she's across oceans by now."

"Are you kidding me."

Rodriguez smiled. "Turn them off."


End file.
